


The Registry

by misha_anon



Series: Cheesy Tropes Challenge [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, M/M, Soulmates, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe where soulmates have matching marks, Dean is having zero luck finding his.  Luckily, The Registry exists to help people just like him.  This is the story of the day he met his match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Registry

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write. I wasn't expecting that. _*lol*_

Soulmate matching is nerve-wracking business.  If you haven't already found them by the time you turn thirty, your name and your mark are submitted to The Registry to try to help your obviously pathetic ass out.  With millions of names and marks in the database, the chances are a lot better than Dean's method of choice - picking up people in bars and taking them home - that you'll end up with your soulmate.

Dean figured out a long time ago by the size of the handprint that appeared on his left shoulder when he was twenty-two years old that his soulmate was a man and he's been looking for that man ever since to no avail.  He entered The Registry three years ago and yesterday they finally called to tell him they had a potential match.  The chipper woman on the phone had said, "Ninety-five percent match, maybe ninety-six percent."  

The Registry had been wrong plenty of times before, though.  _Everyone_ has heard the horror stories of awkward meetings with people whose marks didn't match up.  Which is, incidentally, the reason all Registry inspired first meetings now take place at approved facilities.  The moral of the story is that it's better if you don't get your hopes up.  Still, Dean is ready to settle down and have a real life in one place built up with someone else.

After arriving half an hour early to the appointed facility, Dean paces nervously back and forth in front of the door, running his fingers through his hair as he gives himself the thousandth pep talk of the day.  _It's no big deal_ , he tells himself, _either it fits or it doesn't._   His less-than-rational side scoffs.  _Of course it won't fit.  Why would it?  You're never gonna find your soulmate, Winchester._

The room is a long rectangle, full of cheery light and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out on the Rocky Mountains.  It would be comfortable under any other circumstance.  Dean frowns and straightens his t-shirt, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, and moves away from the door through which his "date" will arrive.  He takes a seat in one of the luxuriously padded chairs and stretches his legs out before taking a long breath and blowing it back out short and quick.  Sammy taught him that little tension relief trick and as his heartbeat slows, he makes a mental note to thank him for it.

When the door finally opens five minutes later, Dean's heart leaps into his chest.  A moment later, a man walks through.  He's tall and lithe with a shock of unruly dark hair and a tentative smile.  Dean pushes to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in the process.  The man is _gorgeous_ and tanned and walking across the room toward him at a no-nonsense pace.  When he gets closer, Dean sees that the man's blue eyes are as filled with hope as his own chest feels.

"Hello, Dean," the man says as he comes to a stop a little closer than is strictly normal, his chest only six inches from Dean's.

"Hey," Dean says, his voice breaking.  He panics for a moment, searching his memory for the guy's name..  something weird and foreign and right on the tip of his tongue it starts with a "C" but Dean is staring into the most sincere pair of blue eyes he's ever seen and it's just not...

"I'm Castiel," Castiel says.  He smiles again and takes half a step back as though he's finally realized that he's too close.

"Cas, right," Dean says, returning the smile.  He clears his throat and tries to will his belly to stop doing somersaults long enough for him to catch his breath.  He's starting to wonder how someone can be so _calm_ under such stressful conditions when he notices the faint blush coloring Castiel's cheeks and the way his smile has gone a little wider and a little more nervous.  Nerves steadied, Dean adds:  "It's..  it's good to meet you."

"Listen, Dean," Castiel says by way of reply.  "This is my third meeting and the other two were obviously not matches."  His adam's apple dips with a hard swallow and he bites at his lower lip for half a second before he continues with a quiet intensity.  "So, before we get to know one another at all, could we just see whether our marks match and we're really meant to be?"

Dean's mouth drops open and he snaps it shut quickly.  Since the day he joined The Registry, he's been practicing the same speech - minus the 'tried twice already' bit and _still_ Castiel somehow beat him to delivering it.  His heart swells with hope that they match as he pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Here goes nothing," Dean says, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels.

Castiel's fingers wrap loosely around Dean's upper arm as he studies the dark pink handprint, splaying and sliding slowly upward as though he's afraid to move faster.  When he looks back up, their eyes lock and Dean's breath hitches with nerves.  He's ninety-five percent, maybe ninety-six percent sure he's going to throw up as Castiel's fingertips slide over the bottom edge of his mark.

The further Castiel's hand slides up the handprint, the more Dean's stomach twists and flips and he can barely stand to breathe by the time Castiel's hand is completely flush with it.  In an instant, the fear and anxiety vanish, replaced by a longing that fills Dean from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.  Warmth spreads through him as the tightened lines around Castiel's eyes soften into the crinkles of a genuine smile.  Dean has never in his life wanted to kiss someone so badly.

So, he does.  He reaches out with his left hand and wraps his fingers around the back of Castiel's neck to pull him closer, adrenaline and happiness coursing through his veins.  Castiel's breath catches, then whooshes warm over Dean's.  Just before their lips touch, both men whisper, "Mine."

It isn't like the first kiss; it's like the millionth.  It's like cold lemonade on a hot day standing in a cool breeze from the lake.  It's like the fuzziest warm blanket and a crackling fireplace.  It's like coming home as their lips fit together, Castiel's fingers squeezing Dean's shoulder as they kiss deeper and deeper until Dean's head is spinning with happiness and his body is nearly vibrating with pleasure.  It's like..  apple pie fresh out of the oven, only shared with someone who loves it just as much.

When they break apart, breathless and grinning and sneaking more tiny kisses just for the sake of pressing their spit-wet lips together again, Dean's eyes fill with tears.  He blinks them away and closes his eyes before pressing his forehead against Castiel's.

"I thought I'd never find you," Dean admits, his voice small in his own ears.

"I always knew you would," Castiel replies, his hand warm over the handprint on Dean's arm.  "I never doubted you for a _moment_."

Somehow, Dean believes it.  He smiles and steals another kiss and whispers, "Let's go home, Cas."


End file.
